The Way Things Change
by Loke
Summary: A partnership and a friendship hang in the balance when a line is crossed and a way of life is destroyed.
1. Prologue I

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Title: The Way Things Change

Author: ~L or Elle, whichever tickles your fancy… but I mostly go by plain old L

Summary: A partnership and a friendship hang in the balance when a line is crossed and a way of life is destroyed.  

Author's Note: This story kicks off during the wee hours of the morning following the season four finale.  The introductory chapter is actually part one, or A of the prologue, which will stretch two chapters.  It may seem that I have totally skimmed over the actual ending to the season finale, but that's just because I'm building something here.  I'm starting a bit after the cliffhanger scene and working my way backward; where I'll start to unfold my little take on what could have happened.  Don't worry, all will be revealed in due time, cause lets face it; we ain't got nothing but time till September.  Oh and please don't think this going to be a happy; 'all is perfect and swell' kind of romance story, because I don't even feel right calling it a romance fic.  It's more a _'make your main characters suffer 'till they can't suffer no more'_ kind of story… aaahhh… emotional hurtness.  Don't ya love it?

Oh and this is my very fist fic attempt, so please, any feedback you guys can give me would be greatly appreciated! =) 

Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with "Third Watch". That honor belongs solely to Edward Bernero, John Wells, and a bunch of other damned lucky people.

Spoilers: Up through and including "The Price of Nobility" as well as beyond… but that's just what's going down in _my_ little world.

Pairings: Yes, Bosco/Faith is the general theme, but it won't be any easy road… where's the fun in that?  It might even leave some of you shippers wondering if together is better than apart. Wait… did I just say that? Nah… couldn't have been…_

And that brings us to the nitty-gritty of it… on with the fic…. ~L

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The Way Things Change

Prologue: Part One

It seems, sometimes, that a dream can go on forever, almost to the point of being trapped within it, unable to shake its hold.   Unfortunately… that wasn't much of a problem for her right now, as she lay awake in quiet, unwilling contemplation.  She hadn't wanted to wake up… no, not yet, not while being asleep was so much easier than being awake.  At least in sleep you could forget, loose yourself in the solace of the dark and the tranquility of the engulfing quiet.  It was all she wanted at that moment, well, all her heart wanted.   Her mind, she had learned, was quite a different story, and restful silence within her head would not be granted her tonight, or for quite some time to come she imagined.    

It wasn't absolutely quiet; it never can be in the city, but aside from the buzz of the streets below and the world around, which you learn to block out and not even notice after time, it was almost completely still… almost.  The sound of rhythmic breathing belonging to an individual lost within the serenity of sleep, hummed at her side, beckoning to her with its peaceful chime to join in its slumber.  Oh how she wished she could.  After all, life was so much simpler in sleep, when you don't have to think, and you don't have to feel.

She rolled herself on her side, slowly, as if the slightest sudden movement would bring the world around her crashing down into irreversible ruin.  With an arm folded and tucked under her cheek, she stared at her companion, who still had the profoundly simple pleasure of being wrapped within a good dream… she was sure of it.  A sudden, overpowering need to see him with more clarity stabbed at her, and she swiftly lifted her free arm over her head, and pushed the heavy curtain open, just a bit.  The pale blue light that filtered through made his form barely discernable, and the fierce and unexpected desire was satisfied as her eyes eagerly took him in.  

She could make out the curve of his nose as it dipped down to meet his mouth, the mouth that had over the years, stunned her with it's capacity for reckless immaturity, insensitive bravado, and when she was extremely lucky, boundless caring.  From there her careful eyes followed the line of his chin, all the way down to his strong and muscular chest, which was bare and almost glowing in the soft light that surrounded them.  She watched in simple awe as his chest rose and fell so gracefully.  It was something she would always be thankful to see, a fact that had been made painfully clear to her only a few hours ago.  

She could have lost him.  

This, whatever it was that they had now… had almost never been. The thought sickened her, but stunned her with the uncomplicated possibility that it set before her.  '_What if… Would we have… Would I even be here?'_  She wanted more than anything to believe that she would have found her way to him, even without the traumatic shove fate had given her, but part of her had serious reservations.  But, despite any misgivings she may have about her path to his bed, it didn't change the fact that she was there.

  '_Yes… I would be here._  _I want to be here,'_ she tried her best to reason with her mind, pushing the doubtful little voice down and out of her head, hoping to silence it and to quiet the stinging shame she felt. 

'_But_ _I shouldn't be here…'_ And there went that pesky little voice again, throwing it all back in her face.

 Sighing heavily as defeat crawled across her weary mind, she closed her eyes, breathing in the tranquil air of the room, needing it to soothe her guilty thoughts and to calm the awful blame that stirred within her.  __

She was tired, though the word hardly seemed to do her weariness justice.  A part of her wanted to keep her eyes closed, to surrender to the simple obliviousness of sleep and to pretend that she was where she was supposed to be.  But there was that stubborn desire again … to see him, and her eyes fluttered open.  She wasn't sure where this nagging want came from.  Well, she wasn't _entirely_ sure.  After all, he was okay.  Miraculously, both had escaped those moments of vengeful fury, unscathed. He had risked himself to ensure her safety, and by the sheer grace of God, he not been taken from her.  But still she needed to remind herself, to reassure her shaken heart that he was indeed still alive_.  _It was that relentless need that had brought her here to him, against every caution. 

 She had gone home, settled in her own familiar bed even, along with its familiar occupant.  She had tried to cast the burning thoughts away, but they were stubborn and they only grew, until that need to see him, to be sure, had run away with her.  

She walked, as she always did.  She could have taken _his_ truck, but somehow, that just didn't seem … appropriate, given the destination.  The cold, early morning air had stung her lungs as she took her first deep breath, adding to the urgency she felt, but somehow slowing her step.  She had spent the time between her home and his thinking, submitting to her mind's endless line of questioning.  Perhaps, she had wished to talk herself out of it… whatever _it_ may have been.  She hadn't known.  All she knew, all she was sure of was that she had to see him, to prove to herself once and for all, that this day that lay behind them had not claimed his life as it did their friend's, that his body was not in reality laying cold and lifeless on a slab of sterile steel.  But she knew that wasn't the case.  She had said goodnight to him herself, seen him turn and leave with her own two eyes, but part of her still _had_ to be sure.  '_I had to be… '_

Feeling brave, she reached out slowly, and gently laid her hand over his, absentmindedly stroking his knuckles.  The mere feel of his skin on hers, delighted her, it made her feel at peace, finally happy… after all this time. But the feeling also brought with it a note of something else.  Belonging.  As if this place beside him, with all the uncertainty and looming despair that it held, was right where she was meant to be.   

It was then, as she stroked his strong hand with such gentle caring, that he began to stir.  It didn't startle her, for she knew his movements.  As he rolled on his side, to face her with his eyes still closed, she knew he wasn't hurried.  She could tell by his breaths, by the slight, unconscious smile that played so deliciously on his lips.  He had no intention of leaving this bed, not by any stretch of the imagination.

That feeling of peace, of belonging, wasn't new.   She had felt it earlier, when he opened his door to her, when his mournful eyes locked with hers.  She hadn't known what to do at first, standing there in his doorway, her hands tucked away within her jacket pockets to hide their shaking.  She had always been afraid to show him weakness, any emotion other than anger.  But now she simply could hold back no longer.  The day, the pain of it all was just too much and an errant, lonely tear escaped the corner of her eye and rolled swiftly down her cheek. In an instant his hand drew from his side and stopped her hasty movement to wipe away the tear.  She had watched him shake his head slowly as she felt his touch play warmly on her cheek, his thumb gently brushing the tear away for her.  

It was then, at that moment that every emotional barrier she had ever built up around herself, crumbled miserably at her feet.  She would have collapsed if it weren't for the strong and ready arms that caught her as all feeling left her legs.  She cried, truly cried for the first time in years and he just held her, stroking her hair, pressing her head tightly to his chest and whispering soothingly in her ear.  It was a reaction she had never expected.  It contradicted his tough-guy persona in every imaginable way, yet he did it so well. 

They didn't speak; words had never been necessary for them.  Communication for them was based on feeling, interpretation of the eyes.  It may seem difficult but in reality, nothing could have been or was ever more natural for them.  They had sunk to the floor, though the fact had escaped her until later.  He had followed her, easing her down as theirs knee connected with the hardwood floor.  And that's where they stayed, for how long she didn't know, though it felt like an eternity.  When she finally pulled away, it was only enough to look at him. She had to see his eyes, because she knew that if she could find even the tiniest shred of hope in them, then maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. 

 It was what she saw that made her do what she did.  

His eyes, for as long as she could remember, had always held a certain sparkle.  A charming, boyish light that always let her know, that no matter how screwed up things may get, he would be okay, because that symbolic inner light would carry him safely through.  As she looked into his eyes she couldn't help the bleak feeling that rushed over her.   It was gone, that glimmer was gone and in its place … darkness, endless depths of pain and sorrow filled darkness.  It was then that her feeling of hopelessness was swiftly replaced with a wave of harsh resentment.  '_That bitch…' _The last image she wanted to conjure up at that moment was one of _her_, but it couldn't be helped, it was _her_ fault.  _She_ had done this.  That awful woman had taken from him what no one, not even his miserable father had managed to take from him.  _She_, had stolen his light, his precious, and sacred inner strength, and at that moment, Faith wanted nothing more than to be the one to give it back to him.  She never doubted her ability, and she never would again, because it was his own words that had finally made it clear to her, '_you're the only one… Faith, I don't have anyone_ _else_'. 

 He truly _didn't_ have anyone else, and though she had a family, husband, a whole other life, in basic and sad truth, she didn't have anyone else either, not the way she had him.  No, the bond _they_ shared was something completely different and entirely separate from anything else that existed in her life.  What they had, the two of them together, partners, friends, soul mates… it was something infinitely stronger than she had ever intended it to be. And as the anger faded, the peace that had proved so fleeting in the past returned, just long enough for her to do what she had never planned on doing.  

She kissed him.  

She knew she should have been shocked by her actions, appalled by the mere possibility of it, but she wasn't.  All she could do was surrender to his touch, to the way his strong yet gentle hands came up to her face and cradled her head, his fingers entangling passionately in her hair.  

A definite and sacred line between friend and lover had been crossed and passage had been granted as well as accepted, hungrily and eagerly.  She became determined not to allow her mind to take over, to deter her course, because whether this was good or bad, she wanted it and so did he.  So, she dispelled her reasoned thinking, allowing herself for the first time in her life, to just feel, and quite honestly, she never imagined that destruction could feel _so very_ good.  Because that's what it was, destruction.  And no matter how hard she fought to deny it, her perfectly passionate encounter, was nothing more than the beginning of an end… for so many things.

T.B.C…?  I'm already working on part two of the prologue (Bosco's take on things) but please R&R if you want me to continue… I wouldn't want to go posting up an unwanted fic, now would I?  Oh and please keep in mind that this is my first fanfic attempt of any kind and that I'm still trying to get a feel for it and find my writing rhythm, so please be kind, but please feel free to let me know how I'm doing, and what could be improved upon. =)

Thank You! ~L 


	2. Prologue II

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Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with "Third Watch". That honor belongs solely to Edward Bernero, John Wells, and a bunch of other damned lucky people.

Author's Note: First off I have to give a HUGE thank you to those of you who reviewed.  Thank you all so very much for all your incredibly kind words!  When I checked back and saw the response this little old fic was getting, it made my day!  Thanks again for all the support and the encouragement… keep it coming!! :o)

And secondly, I'm sorry it took so long to get this thing up, and I apologize for how short it is, but this second installment of the prologue was really killing me.  I must have reworked this thing at least a dozen times, and I finally settled on this version even though it still bugs me a bit.  The overall feel of this chapter it a bit different from the first… hopefully it doesn't read too choppy or too sappy… though I suppose the shippers should soak it up, cause _that_ won't last.  Anyway, I got sick of how damn disagreeable my brain was being when it came to this chapter so I decided to wrap it up and get started on the _actual_ story, which is proving to write out a lot _faster_ and a lot _smoother_… thank you lord!

Okay… now that that's out of the way… lets get it goin'! ~L

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The Way Things Change

Prologue II

The darkness that swirled around him shrouded nearly everything it touched.   The familiar landscape of his bedroom was almost completely lost to him, with only the slightest of outlines visible.  It should have made him uneasy since he had never been comfortable with the dark.  Its cold emptiness held too many things he didn't want to remember, and was home to far too many ghosts that would never let him forget.  From the time he was a little boy the dark had gone hand in hand with pain, with fear.  But now, the rare shadows that invaded his bedroom didn't seem quite so menacing, or quite so haunting.  Instead of anxiety, it was a strange and almost absurd calm that plagued him now, allowing him a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in such a long time.

But how could he feel at peace when so many things would never be right again?  How could he allow himself even the smallest moment of happiness when some of those closest to him were in their darkest hour?

The reason for his odd tranquility wasn't some great mystery or carefully hidden truth.  That reason was glaringly obvious to him.  That reason had appeared at his door just after midnight, looking sorrowful and broken.  And now that reason lay sleeping in his arms, cloaked in the same restful dark.  

While the desire for sleep tugged at his exhausted body, the need to savor her presence proved far more powerful and he kept his eyes open, allowing his thoughtful gaze to rest upon her barely visible face.  He wasn't exactly sure of what had brought her to him, of what had made her do the things she did, but in all honesty, reasons didn't mater right then, and neither did answers.  The only thing he gave a damn about was keeping her close to him until the moment came where everything would change.  And that moment would come.  Because there was one truth he couldn't deny and one fact he couldn't pretend away.

She wasn't supposed to be there, and once morning came, she would be gone, taking with her his perfect peace.

And unfortunately, that was an outcome he couldn't bring himself to face.  Because even the harsh reality of the situation didn't change the fact that the last thing he wanted was to have to let her go.  All he wanted was to freeze that moment, to hold on to it and keep it safe from the future, from the fallout that awaited them.  And though he knew it wouldn't be possible, he wanted to push all the doubt and the uncertainty away, close his eyes, and pretend that there was nothing to regret and nothing to be sorry for.  Truthfully, he needed that calm before the storm, because he could already feel it brewing on the horizon, threatening to destroy whatever it was he had found in her arms.  

Feeling his body tense at the thought, his arms tightened around her, and he pressed his lips softly to the top of her head as a strange protective anger washed over him.  

'I can't loose her…'  

But it was a selfish thought really, one rooted in desperation and denial.  He knew very well that she could fade out of his life forever.  He just wanted to believe that she wouldn't, even though their actions had all but guaranteed that she would.  What other choice did she have?  She was a mother… a wife, and _this,_ he imagined, was not included her plans for the future.  She might just decide to cut the cord as they say, and sever all ties with him and the relationship they had shared for the past ten years.   

But while he was aware of the possibilities lurking in the shadows, he still wanted nothing more than to chase them away with what lay on the flip side of the coin. 

Faith loved him.  

She wouldn't have done what she did if that weren't the case.  She wouldn't have sacrificed her life in every sense of the word if they had been 'just partners'.   And if she loved and cared about him that much, then there would be no way she could let go of him.  You don't walk away from something that powerful, it's just _not_ possible.  Besides, what the hell was he supposed to do without her?  How could he possibly face what awaited him in the morning without her beside him?  

And again, his answer was simple… he couldn't.

He had spent most of life trying to be a person who didn't need anyone, and so far he had succeeded.  He _didn't_ need just anyone… he needed her.  And after the past few hours, he had never been more certain of anything in his life.  He needed what Faith did for him and what she gave him.  Because over the years she had become more than a friend, more than a partner, she had become part of him, the other half of 55-David and the other half of himself in a lot of ways. 

But who was he to believe that any of his needs would ever really change the inevitable?  Because the brutal truth of it was that he couldn't see a happy ending for this one.  Faith had a whole other life that needed her more than he ever would, and as his eyes traced her barely lit profile, his tired mind finally gave in to the beaten understanding that though she was very much alive, he had probably just lost the only person who every really mattered. 

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T.B.C….  and so it shall begin… that is of course, if you guys are still liking this….   ;o)  Oh, and don't forget to R&R!! 

Thank You!

~L


	3. Chapter I

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Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with "Third Watch". That honor belongs solely to Edward Bernero, John Wells, and a bunch of other damn lucky people.

Authors Note: Wow, what has it been, like almost two months since I updated this thing?  I am so sorry, I'll try to be better next time, but I can't promise anything… I tend to procrastinate. Sorry! =)

Anyway, This is the first real chapter, but hopefully I've been successful in building the base for the story.  Also, just a note… details of what exactly went down in Noble's suite may be a little fuzzy… at first, but by the end of the chapter you guys will have a better idea of what happened. J   And yes, it all may seem a little shipper-esque at first with the B/F stuff, but I promise there will me TONS more to this story than the shipper angle!

Thank you all so, so much for your wonderful reviews!!  Your support means the world to me, so thanks again! :o)

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The Way Things Change

Chapter I ~ "Morning Views"

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It had been 2 hours, 21 minutes, and 16 seconds, roughly, since she had left him.  She had snuck out, seemingly undetected, slowly prying herself away from the warm and comforting body that lay beneath her.  She never thought it would, but it actually hurt.  The act of leaving, of forcing herself away from the one thing that had brought her comfort in all this unbelievable mess, had _hurt_.  Not just imagined or theoretical hurt either, but real, stinging, burning, hurt.  The kind that rips at your insides, and makes you want to dissolve into a puddle of desperate tears.  

But, she had gone through with it.  She had taken the typical Faith stance, kept her head down and pushed right through, no matter how much it killed her to do it.  She was just thankful he never woke up.  She couldn't even begin to imagine what she would've done if she had to face him.  To have to see the look in his eyes as she fumbled through a half-assed attempt at an explanation would have been too much.  Hell, to look into his eyes at all would have probably stopped her heart, or at the very least convinced her to do the one thing she couldn't.  Stay.   

Bosco was funny like that.  He didn't have to say a damn thing to turn her world upside down and bend her to his will.  All he had to do was look at her with that unwavering intensity that always seemed to stop her cold, and it would be over.  She would do what she knew she shouldn't, all because she just couldn't help herself when it came to him.  After all, the day that lay behind them was a prime example of that very fact.   When it came to Bosco and what he needed and what he wanted, she had no control and better judgment almost always went right out the window.  That's the way it had always been with them, and part of her doubted very heavily if that would ever change. Because she knew she would never stop caring about Bosco, never stop feeling the need to help him, never, no matter what mess he got into or what profoundly ridiculous scenario he found himself in the middle of.  It would always be them against the world. She just hoped he knew that.

Then there was what had happened not six hours ago.  What in god's name was she supposed to call that?  In the space of few hours she had gone from being terrified at the idea of losing her partner, her friend, to breaking to down like a miserable wreck in his arms and crossing a line she had held sacred for many years.  Bosco had peen perfect though, offering her the gentle and caring shoulder to cry on that she hadn't even known she needed. And in the process, he had given her so much more, more than she had ever thought possible.  She supposed she could chalk it up to just another random act of kindness on Bosco's part.  

_Wait… am I really classifying that as an act of kindness?  What the hell is wrong with me?'_

Okay, so perhaps 'act of kindness' was not the best phrase.  But it was _something_… whatever it was.  _Nothing,_ doesn't feel like that, _nothing,_ doesn't make your head swim and take your breath away at the same time.  No, _that_ was definitely _something_.

_Yeah… It's called sex, Faith._

Faith felt her stomach do an unsettling flop at the thought.  She could call what her and Bosco just shared anything she wanted, but deep down she knew better.  She had just done the dirty with her partner.  She had just cheated on her husband, her now caring, understanding, lord-lovin' husband.  And she had no idea how she was supposed to face Fred in the aftermath of it. 

So there in lay the explanation for her aimless wandering of Manhattan's cold, dank, early morning streets.  She was doing what any guilt-ridden wife would do, delaying the inevitable. But she imagined it was a recourse that could only take her so far.  

Looking up from her tunnel vision grip on the sidewalk ahead of her, her eyes noted the pinkish glow burning at the base of the concrete giants that clogged the horizon.  The sun would break over the rooftops in a matter of minutes, and she was nowhere near where she was supposed to be.  A sudden chilling gust of early morning air, tousled her open jacket, and set loose wisps of her blonde hair.  Bringing her arms up around herself to shut out the cold, she trudged on, wondering, in vain, if she could make it home before the sun's full warmth spilled over Manhattan. 

Feeling an unexplainable urge to look up, she once again took stock of her surroundings, believing for a moment that her eyes were deceiving her.  Faith found herself only a street crossing away from a place she knew very well, a place where she and her partner had spent the lulls in many a shift… the bridge, or under it to be exact.

She made her way to the dirt clearing at the edge of the water and cast her eyes out, taking in the sun's slow break over the horizon.  It had been so long since she'd witnessed this.  She'd almost forgotten just how beautiful it could be.  Though behind the simple, yet breathtaking pleasure of watching a sunrise, lay a nagging sadness that forced the soft smile that graced her features to fade away.  A new day was upon her and the only thing she could think about was what had gone on during the day before, and what would eventually come in the days to follow.  

Fred wasn't the only person she would have to face, and her potential marital problems weren't the only ones that were waiting for her, because sooner or later, Cruz would be back.  

However, Faith had her money on later, just not much later, because Maritza Cruz was nothing if not strategic.  She doubted the woman could wake up in the morning without a well-crafted plan up her sleeve, let alone face the two officers that held her fate in their hands. No, good old "two bags" would definitely come stumbling back into their lives; it was only a matter of time.  

It was what would happen after that that baffled her and scared the hell out of her at the same time.  The shape the future would take was anyone's guess because Cruz was utterly unpredictable, what went down in Noble's hotel room more that proved that.  Faith only hoped Cruz wouldn't wait too long to rear her ugly head, because waiting in limbo never really appealed to Faith.  If her career as she knew it was going to be blown apart, than she would rather it be quick, because Lord knows it wouldn't be painless.  

Closing her eyes she recalled those heart-stopping moments from the night before, and she wondered how Bosco would handle the certain Cruz face-off that awaited them.  She knew he was angry, angrier than she had ever seen him, and briefly, a part of her wondered if Bosco would ever make good on the threats he had chased Cruz away with the night before…

_ ---------- Flashback --------- _

_~ Noble's Hotel Suite, Previous Night_

_Faith stumbled back as Bosco stepped between herself and Cruz, sending the ACU sergeant backward a good few feet with a violent shove._

_"You stay the hell away form her!"  Faith had never heard her partner's voice take on such a panicked tone, not in all the years she had worked with him._

_Cruz steadied herself on the wall, her fingers tensely gripping at the black Glock 9 she held in her hand. She seemed taken back, more so than Faith was, as she held Bosco's furious stare.  _

_"How could you do this to me?" The sergeant demanded, her jaw clenched in pure hatred.  "You were gonna help me get him…"_

_"Its over, Cruz… just leave." Bosco warned in a low, angry rumble, as the sergeant inched toward them.  _

_"Everything was gonna work out," Cruz said, her words barely making their way past her lips her voice was so choked with anger. _

_Bosco took a small step back, using his arm to slowly push Faith behind him, out of harm's way.  "Cruz, just go!"_

_"Buford… he was finally gonna pay…" Cruz continued to move toward them, shaking her head in panicky disbelief, not caring to heed Bosco's desperate warnings._

_"Would you just get the hell outta here!" he roared._

_Faith wanted to say something to help Bosco, but she thought the better of it.  Cruz was far too unstable at the moment for Faith to throw her voice into the mix.  So, instead she held her tongue and slid herself to the side of Bosco as far as his protective arm would allow._

_It was immediately a movement Faith regretted, as Cruz's furious gaze brushed past her "star", and locked onto Faith.  Faith felt her heart freeze, and she suddenly remembered how Sasha had once classified Cruz…as weak.  The idea had seemed ridiculous before, but as Faith found herself on the other end of Cruz's raw fury, the absurdity of the notion slipped away. Cruz was weak, and the weak minded were capable of absolutely anything._

_"You…" The word escaped Cruz's lips in a low, guttural rumble as she took yet another daring step._

_Bosco's whole body tensed in panic.  "I'm warning you, Cruz.  Don't come any closer!"_

_"Yokas… you did this.  You turned him against me!"_

_Faith eyes shot to Cruz's hand, and to the gun she held in it as the sergeant continued to move forward.  If they weren't careful, they could have a repeat showing of what had just gone down.  Only Faith imagined they wouldn't be so lucky the second time around.   _

_"I mean it, Cruz!  Get back!"_

_"I won't let you get away with this, Yokas," she spat, defying Bosco's warning yet again and making a final move toward Faith._

_With everything in him, Bosco reacted and drew his weapon from his holster again, this time pushing the mouth of the gun into Cruz's chest. "I said stay away from her!"_

_The sergeant's arms flew up in surrender as her widened eyes frantically tried to comprehend what was going on._

_Faith knew the look on Cruz's face all too well.  It was the look of realization, and a desperate one at that. Cruz had just lost control, and no one knew that fact better than the sergeant herself.  _

_"You won't kill me, Bosco… you're not like that."   Cruz was grasping at straws now, softening her angry, contorted face as her voice suddenly dipped to a sickening purr._

_"Don't be so sure of that Sarge," Bosco warned, unfazed by Cruz's ploy. "The only reason you're still breathing is because I missed.  And I don't know about you," he paused, tapping the tip of the gun against her chest. "But I'm willing to bet I won't make that mistake twice."_

_A twisted smile crept across the sergeant's face and she leaned herself defiantly into the gun's point.  "This is different, Bosco…" she said, her eyes glinting with a spiteful arrogance. "You don't have the balls for this." _

_Faith could only watch as Bosco took another step toward the sergeant, slowly sliding the point of the gun from Cruz's chest to the base of her neck.  "Try me," he whispered._

_An excruciating quiet engulfed the room as Bosco and Cruz silently faced off, each one daring the other to make a move._

_"I'm warning you, Cruz.  If you don't get the hell outta here right now, I'll pull this trigger without so much as flinching."_

_The sergeant's wild, vengeful eyes bounced between Faith and Bosco.  Her calculating mind was dissecting her every option, simply to find she only had two.  Leave and live to fight another day, or stay and die right along with her cause._

_She stepped back, finally, and Faith found herself thanking god that Bosco knew better than to lower his weapon too quickly.  The sergeant stood there for a moment, her dark eyes glued to Faith's, before silently turning away._

_She was almost out the door when Bosco's harsh voice sliced through the tense quiet of the room, "Ritza." _

_The sergeant stopped in her tracks, but kept her back to Bosco.  _

_"I meant it.  You come near her again, and I will kill you myself," and with that, Maritza Cruz disappeared into the night._

_ --------- End Flashback --------- _

Blinking her eyes open, Faith dismissed the thought.  Bosco may have been angry, but he would never actually kill Cruz. His words had just been an attempt to make it all go away, to make her go away.  Only chances were it wouldn't work, at least not for long.

Faith took in a deep breath and glanced at her watch.  It was already almost seven in the morning and she still wasn't home.  It looked like she had succeeded in putting off the inevitable after all, because Fred would be out the door to work in just a few minutes and she would be free to collapse into bed without having to explain her whereabouts.

A sad smile traced her lips as she scanned the water one last time.  It was true, she wouldn't have to face the music this morning, but tonight, she imagined, would be an entirely different story.  

 - - - - - - - - - - 

Pulling a faded PD shirt over his head, Bosco crossed his slightly cluttered bedroom floor to the window.  He could see the pinkish-orange glow of the morning sun swirling vividly across Manhattan's dim, gray sky, signaling to the world the start of another day.  Briefly, pointed memories of the last sunrise he watched played back in his head, bringing a sad smile to his lips.  The memory of that morning still seemed so fresh, like it had only happened yesterday.  But at the same time, it reminded him of a part of his life that felt so incredibly distant now. 

Still, he couldn't ignore the eerie similarities that surrounded both that morning and this one.  Both found him as well as his friends in the wake of tragedy, and turmoil.  And both left him feeling angry, confused and unbelievable sad, as though part of him had withered away and died.  But as far as the likenesses went, they ended there, because more than a few things were gravely different about _this_ morning.  Bobby, and now Alex were gone, and the group of friends had not gathered to share their pain in comfortable silence. Instead the group had scattered in private grief to places where solitude could be their only comfort.  Or so had been the plan.  

Leaving the station that night, he believed there was nothing in his near future save deep, regretful thoughts and lots, and lots of alcohol. He had been dead set on forgetting every aspect of the night he'd had the unfortunate pleasure of living through, to sandblast it from his memory, if only for one night if nothing else.  In short, he'd intended on getting thoroughly shit-faced, _thoroughly_. 

He hadn't quite gotten there though, seeing as though he was gloriously free of the excruciating headache he had prepared himself to be suffering through. He supposed he had Faith to thank for that.  If she hadn't shown up, he just might have succeeded in drinking himself clear into oblivion.  _Maybe that wouldn't have such a bad thing_, he thought.  At least in oblivion he wouldn't have dwell on the fact that one of the only true bonds he had in his life was waiting for him --utterly destroyed— on the other side of his apartment door.  And he was fairly certain he could pinpoint the moment the deathblow to his friendship with Faith had been delivered. It all began to crumble hopelessly, albeit pleasurably, the moment her lips touched his.  Worst of all, he hadn't done a damn thing to stop it.  He knew she was vulnerable.  In fact, he couldn't recall ever seeing Faith so unglued before.  But that and possibly all the knowledge and levelheaded thinking in the world, wouldn't have stopped him.  More importantly, it wouldn't have stopped her.

He remembered the panic that had assaulted his body when she crumbled in his arms.  What in the hell was he supposed to do?  He was the cause for all of it, and still she came to him, a man that for all intents and purposes, she should have hated.  _Maybe she does._  _Maybe it was her retribution_, he thought woefully.  What better way to punish a man than to share with him something so intense, so incredible, only to rip it so brutally from his arms a few short hours later?  None that he could think of.

He watched her go.  She didn't know he was awake, but he was.  He lay there silently feigning sleep as he watched her carefully gather her clothes, slip them on and go.  He had to admit, for something that didn't involve any physical pain; it had to have been one of the most agonizing experiences he'd ever endured.  He wanted so bad to reach out, to stop her, to say something… _anything_.  But he didn't.  He just let her go.  After all, what else was he supposed to do?  Ask her to stay?  The very idea was so absurd it was almost funny.  But what was even funnier was that he got the feeling that if he had gotten up the courage to ask, she would have done it.  In a heartbeat.

Well, maybe in a way it was self-preservation, which had to have been better than self-destruction, which is exactly what asking her to stay would have been.  They had already done enough damage for one night.  Hell, maybe for a lifetime. 

_It's better that I let her go_, he thought, closing his eyes.  _Less for her to explain_. _Less for her to feel guilty about. _

But as Bosco looked out his bedroom window, he couldn't help but wonder where she had gone to after leaving him.  She made her departure from his arms, from his bed, and quite possibly from his life, almost three hours ago.  And, according to a very irate Fred, who had called him not twenty minutes ago, she still wasn't home.  But he wasn't overly worried.  Faith knew how to handle herself, and if he was right, and he was pretty positive he was, Faith was just walking it off.  She had probably trekked through half of Manhattan by now, just trying to get her thoughts together before heading home. He didn't blame her, not one bit.  There was a hell of a lot to get together, especially now after everything that had happened and after everything that was going to happen.  

Just then, the sound of knocking pulled him from his thoughts.  He clenched his eyes closed in annoyance and willed the sound to go away.  _Who in the hell would be knocking on my door at 7 in the…_ Bosco's heart froze. _Faith_, he thought.  It had to be her. 

Unable to keep the slight grin off his face, Bosco strode to the door, worked the locks, and pulled it open, only to be greeted by the last person in the world he expected to see. 

"Oh, what's the matter, Bosco Boy?" she purred in feigned concern as she watched the smile fade from his face.  "Not the partner you were expecting?" 

**********

T.B.C….  So… how did you guys like it?  Give it a review and Let me know what you thought… pretty please… =) Thank you soooo much!  And for those of you who are enjoying it, I won't keep you hanging too long, thought I'm fairly certain you all know who the mystery knocker is, lol.  Aaww, come on.  Jus think of it this way, the sooner I bring her in, the sooner I can kick her butt the hell out. =D


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